When the Lights Go Out
by Inwenalas
Summary: A series of one shots, moments in the future. Neal and Elizabeth deal with Peter's death.
1. Chapter 1

When the Lights Go Out

A series of one shots, moments in the future. Neal and Elizabeth deal with Peter's death.

* * *

The day Peter dies is a dark and rainy day. It's as if the weather knows what's going to happen. The way the rain clatters on the pavement insists that the world is going to drift away soon. Neal doesn't hate the cold or the rain. It's expressive, as if the city is weeping for a lost lover. In a way it's beautiful.

The young man doesn't expect his day to end in horror. As many other days he walks into Peter's office, wearing his fedora with a necessary amount of pride only Neal can get away with.

"New case?" he asks when he sees the folder in his partner's hands. Neal doesn't wait for a reply and sits down in one of Peter's office chairs.

"Old case," Peter corrects, "Andrew McCollins is getting out of jail today."

The troubled expression on his friend's face is unsettling to say the least. "I think I remember that case. He stole and sold a couple of paintings." Neal takes the following silence as a cue to continue. "His brother tried to stop the arrest and got shot when he tried to shoot some agents."

Realization hits Neal pretty hard. "You were one of the agents making that arrest."

"My shot killed his brother," the FBI agent fills the remaining holes in Neal's story.

Neal leans forward and locks eyes with Peter. "You think he's going to try something." Even the younger man isn't sure if his words are a statement or a question.

"I don't think so. I just-"

The worry Neal feels is something he doesn't want to share with Elizabeth. He wants her to feel safe and comfortable for as long as possible. Besides, he isn't exactly the right person to tell her.

"What are you going to do?" he asks.

"There's not much I can do."

It's a simple reply and Neal believes his partner. The real problem is that he doesn't want to believe it.

"You're not even worried."

The younger man is good at playing this game, making all of this sound casual. It's something he doesn't like about himself. What other people call a useful gift, isn't necessarily something Neal adores. People tend to misjudge him, but he knows it's his behavior that confuses people most of the time.

"I'm not a fool, I'm going to be careful, grow eyes on my back. _He's not going to try anything_."

Neal shakes his head. "You don't know that."

The look on Peter's face scares Neal even more. A chill runs down his spine and for a moment it feels as if something, or _someone_'s lost, but Peter is there right in front of him.

"You're right, I don't know that."

Neal can almost hear the agent's thoughts.

_Happy now?__ I'm worried too_.

"You may need protection." Neal finally manages to say the words.

"I'll talk to Hughes later today. Let's get some decent coffee first."

The ex-con quickly grabs his coat and follows his partner outside. They always go to the same coffee shop to get their daily caffeine kick. They wouldn't admit it but it's a routine they love. It gets even better when they sit in Peter's car and swallow the warm liquid. Words aren't that important all of a sudden, it's just a small moment of relaxation they enjoy and deserve before going back to work.

"Time to go," Peter warns Neal before handing the younger man his empty plastic coffee cup.

Neal smiles. "You do realize that I'm your _consultant_, right?" He stresses the word as if it's something Peter's never heard before. Neal gets out of the car and makes his way to the trash can a little further. He doesn't hear Peter start the ignition, but he certainly hears the explosion that follows. The blast throws him forward and then there's nothing.

tbc?

* * *

A/N: Basically, this fic is supposed to deal with the aftermath. Do I continue or stop here? Lemme know.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you for your reviews, they mean a lot to me. Here's chapter two. I wouldn't call this fic a coherent story, it's more like a series of events I guess. I don't know if that makes sense. I hope you like what I'm doing (except for the part where I killed Peter, you don't need to like that).

* * *

Elizabeth feels numb when she stares out the window of Neal's hospital room. It feels as if she's been there for ages and maybe she has because she doesn't remember. Her head moves and she tells herself that she's staring at something important. She's not crying, but she wants tears to roll down her face. The truth is that there are no more tears left to shed. She presses her right hand palm to her forehead in an attempt to get rid of the headache building behind her eyes. She convinces herself this is just a bad dream. She's been trying to convince herself of that for a little over two weeks.

When the door opens behind her she turns around on automatic pilot. She recognizes most of the nurses by now. Leaving Neal's side is something she can't bring herself to do. Going home is just not an option. She doesn't want to experience the haunting emptiness of the place that used to be her true home. Peter filled that home with warmth and love, love for her. She only goes home to take care of Satchmo and to sleep, but even sleep is something she tries to avoid. She doesn't want to dream.

"Can I get you anything?"

Elizabeth looks at the nurse in front of her. The woman's name is Rebecca and she's one of the few people keeping her going.

"No. Thank you."

"Just let me know if you change your mind," Becky replies. The young nurse wants people to use the short version of her name.

Elizabeth nods and lets the young woman check Neal's monitors in silence. Only when she's finished Elle asks: "How is he, Becky?"

"Still the same. Keep talking to him." Rebecca gives her a sad smile before writing something down on Neal's chart.

The young nurse doesn't treat her like a stranger, maybe because she knows she's a widow now, maybe it's pity, but for some reason Elizabeth doesn't think that's it. She sits down in one of the chairs to Neal's left after Rebecca leaves. She's not sure what she's feeling when she looks at Neal. If there's anything she isn't feeling it's anger or blame. It would be easy to blame someone, but she can't possibly blame Neal. She blames Andrew McCollins for killing her husband, for ruining her life. Elizabeth is someone who hates violence, but she wants McCollins to suffer and the thought that he might have a decent life in jail sickens her. It's not as if she doesn't appreciate the FBI's work, but it doesn't feel like it's enough. It doesn't feel right.

"Neal, please wake up. I can't lose you too."

She notices that she's clinging to Neal's hand. Nothing happens, but deep down Elle knows that Neal's still in there, hanging on.

Nothing happens for another three days and Elizabeth feels like she's not living her life at all. It's as if someone else is steering it. Peter's colleagues drop by and even Neal's friends come in to talk to her. Talking doesn't help much, but it's the only thing she can focus on most of the time.

Elle doesn't give up on Neal even if the doctors tell her brutally honest things. He might wake up now, or he might not wake up at all. They tell her she needs to consider the possibility. Elizabeth doesn't want to consider anything. She knows Neal is going to wake up. Neal used to be a conman, yes, but he has a good heart and he would never leave her behind like this.

It's late when she wakes up in Neal's room. She doesn't know what woke her up until she looks up and finds a pair of blue eyes staring at her.

"Neal?"

He blinks in reply, but doesn't say anything.

"Please say something," she almost begs, grabbing his hand.

"Elle."

Elizabeth knows recognition is a good sign and that she needs to give him all the time he needs, but she's not sure if she can wait. She doesn't have to. Seeing the sad expression on the ex-con's face she's certain he remembers what has happened.

"I-"

"Shhh," she stops him.

Neal turns his head so Elizabeth doesn't see the single tear running down his face, but she does notice. Elizabeth's crying again by the time Neal falls asleep again. For some reason she isn't out of tears yet and finds herself shaking as well.

The doctors tell her that Neal is going to be just fine, but that he has a long road ahead of him and that he needs someone to look after him. Elizabeth is not sure if she can be that person. She _wants_ to be that person, but a train wreck is incapable of making it to the next station. She decides that she doesn't even want to know what Neal's right leg looks like and is glad it's covered by a cast.

It's difficult for her to focus on the future, the past just seems to linger. She watches Neal get better slowly, but it's only after a while they manage to have a coherent conversation.

"I should've done something."

"No, Neal, listen to me. There's nothing you could've done. I'm sure of that."

The young man's eyes show doubt and Elle knows she can't take that, not right now.

"If there's anything you can do, it's _being here_. I need you Neal. I can't go through this on my own."

She sounds frantic and that's something Neal doesn't know how to handle. This is just not the Elizabeth he knows.

"You don't have to," he tries to comfort her.

"I mean it, Neal. I'm pregnant."

tbc

* * *

A/N: Remember, reviews will be appreciated. I need to know what you think, it's important to me. Thank you.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: chapter three for you. Typos and other possible errors are mine, unfortunately.

Thank you for reading and reviewing. I appreciate every single review.

* * *

Neal's surprised when he talks to agent Douglas Bremen for the first time. The man's not quite like Peter, but he's not unlike Peter either. Comparing the two agents doesn't seem like the right thing to do, but Neal can't help himself. The new agent in charge of the white collar department doesn't treat him like a tool, but like a person. It's a bigger relief than he cares to admit. Peter used to be one of the few people treating him as a partner, but for some reason Neal feels like he can trust agent Bremen as well. It will take some time, but at least there's a chance.

"Thank you for coming. Let's sit down over here," Bremen says, indicating Neal's desk with his left hand.

Neal doesn't reply, instead he sits down in the chair behind his desk and ditches the crutches against it. He waits for the new agent to sit down as well. He wasn't looking forward to climbing the stairs to Peter's office. _Peter's_. His lack of mobility isn't the only reason they're discussing this here instead.

"I'm new here, and I know I'm an intruder," the agent admits. "I don't want to change things drastically, but I am your boss now and I might not be the kind of boss you're used to."

Neal focuses on the man in front of him. _In his forties. Ambitious_. _Honest. Tough_. His first reading of the black-haired man turns out to be positive. _Positive enough for the time being_.

"I just want you to know that I'm not trying to replace agent Burke. I couldn't do that. I just want this team together again."

The suit the man's wearing reminds him of Peter's style, but he keeps in mind that it could be a general FBI thing.

"Sounds fair," Neal replies and he means it. It's going to take an awful lot of time to accept a new FBI agent or partner in his life, but he's willing to give it a shot. "Is that why I'm here?"

"No, not really. I want you to come back when you're ready and I know that's not right now, but I hoped you could have a look at these files."

"I have everything right here," Bremen says, moving three folders from the corner of Neal's desk to where the younger man's sitting.

"I can do that."

"Diana or Jones will bring you home."

Neal's hands start trembling when he hears the word home, maybe staying at Elizabeth's house wasn't such a good idea. The place is full of memories, mostly good ones, but even those tend to bring out the bad ones eventually. He hides his hands under his desk.

"Meanwhile I can offer you a cup of coffee."

Bremen may have noticed the shaking, but Neal's not entirely sure.

"Have you tasted it?" the younger man throws back, still trying to hide his true feelings, making it sound normal. The truth is that even after so many weeks he can still see and even feel the explosion as if it's right in front of him. He can't be sure if that's what he really saw that day, but it's what he remembers. Sometimes he wonders if he should be happy for blacking out.

"Good point," the agent replies with a smile.

"I could just take a cab."

He's not just trying to be polite when he makes that offer. In a way he's scared of talking to Jones or Diana alone. He wouldn't know what to say. He has talked to them in the last couple of weeks but that was different. Elizabeth was there.

"That won't be necessary, Jones is here now."

Another smile. Neal doesn't feel like smiling but fakes one anyway. _At least the man's trying_, he figures. The ex-con grabs his crutches and gets up slowly.

"Thank you." He's also thanking the man for not having this conversation at Elizabeth's place. He's not sure she's ready for a meet and greet like this. _He's the man who'll be replacing your dead husband_. Nothing sounds right in Neal's head.

They wait for Bremen to leave.

"First impression?" Jones asks while taking the files from Neal and opening the glass door for him.

Grateful for the distraction, Neal hobbles through the doorway before replying: "I'm not sure. Okay I think." He's getting used to people treating him like this, like a vulnerable bird with a broken wing. He's pretty sure they don't mean his leg. Neal doesn't want to believe he can break. They mean well, he's supposed to appreciate their care. Maybe he's already broken. He can't break if he's already broken.

Jones drops him off at Elizabeth's place and they trade a few kind words. The conversation doesn't last very long, it's just a polite exchange of words, no more and no less. Neal can see how much work reminds Elizabeth of Peter, he can see it in her eyes. The twinkle is just gone. He can only hope that it will return one day.

Neal finds himself on the couch not much later, his eyes closed. Who knew that going to the office could be so exhausting? He only opens his eyes again when he senses Elle's presence near him. She's sitting on the table in front of him.

"You're forgetting something," she says, shaking a small bottle of pills. She hands him a glass of water as well and watches him swallow one of the magic pills.

"Thanks." He watches her for what feels like an eternity. Neal's not supposed to be the one sitting here, looking at Peter's wife, admiring her beauty. Peter's supposed to be here, caressing her belly. She's truly beautiful and Neal guesses it's the pregnancy that makes her shine. That's not how she feels on the inside, but she pretends just as much as Neal does, or even more.

"She just kicked," Elizabeth pulls him away from his thoughts. She takes his hand and places it on her belly, ignoring the resistance.

"Elle,…this is not my place."

"We talked about babies, Neal. We even decided on a godfather." She continues when she sees the question marks in Neal's eyes, "You."

He wants to say that he can't do it, scream that he used to be a con artist. Those words don't come out of his mouth, because reality tells him that Elizabeth still accepts him as family. It's an honor and Neal can only say yes.

"I'm not sure if I can be-"

She stops him right there. "Shhh."

The baby kicks and Neal gives the future mom in front of him a small but real smile. The child has great timing.

"I'd be honored, Elizabeth."

tbc

A/N: Tell me what you think.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry for the wait. I wish all of you a great New Year. May 2011 bring everything your heart desires.

* * *

Elle still feels uncomfortable when she sees Neal muddling through case files. Even after so many months they still remind her of Peter. It's not just the case file Neal's holding that's bothering her. What hurts more is the constant reminder growing inside her. The young man knows that the files bother her, but _she_ makes him continue. It's a form of carrying on and she decides to cling to that.

"Agent Bremen said I have to go undercover."

Neal's words hit Elizabeth harder than she wants to admit. It's the danger involved that frightens her. She used to be immune to this way of thinking, but not anymore. These days she can't stop thinking about every little thing in life that could possibly go wrong.

"He can't make you."

Neal wonders if that's panic he hears in her voice. If it is, she's doing a good job at hiding it, but not good enough for Neal to miss.

"It's not Bremen."

"Hughes?" she asks, confusion written all over her face. "Why would he?" Elizabeth stops talking and sits down in the chair next to Neal before leaning her right elbow on the table. "It's not Hughes either, is it?"

Neal shakes his head. "It's above Bancroft's paycheck as well."

"You're not ready to go back to work, let alone go undercover."

It's unclear to Neal why her words touch him more than they should. Maybe it's the fact that he knows that this is not just a random observation. Normally he would take offence, but Elizabeth has a way of making things sound realistic and caring.

"It's either this or back to jail."

Seeing the expression on Elle's face, he expects her to pout and say that it's not fair at all. Instead she reaches out and squeezes his arm.

"I don't know the exact details yet, but it's not supposed to be dangerous."

She doesn't look convinced at all, in fact her face tells him that she will start worrying the moment he leaves the house.

Now that they're discussing the difficult parts of their lives, Neal decides to move the conversation a little further down the road.

"We need to talk about me living here. I can't keep taking advantage like this."

Her shock reaction doesn't surprise Neal. He knows she doesn't look at it like that. The problem is that he himself deems his presence a burden.

"That's not what you're doing, Neal."

"That's what it feels like," Neal admits.

"We talked about this. This is easier for you, we have a guest bedroom downstairs." She stops talking. She realizes what she's just said. _We_.

"We're past that stage now," Neal continues, trying to avoid an awkward silence.

"I-" she freezes and looks down, trying to hide the desperate look on her face.

The ex-con knows what she isn't saying. He has no idea how to handle these surfacing emotions.

"I could stay a bit longer," he blurts out. The truth is that he doesn't want it any other way and if this is what Elizabeth wants as well, then he can accept it. She's the closest thing to a sister or mom he has.

"No Neal, I'm sorry, I can't make you stay. You have to move on too."

He doesn't know why these kind of conversations tend to be difficult, but he doesn't really want to know the true answer to that question. It's just something he needs to accept.

"I _want_ to stay."

The smile he gets in return says everything he needs to know.

"I could… help you out with the baby."

Another smile that tells him she appreciates what he's saying.

He hesitates for a moment.

"You're going to need all the help you can get if she's remotely like Peter."

It may not be the right thing to say, but maybe, just maybe,…

"As long as she doesn't act like her godfather, we'll be fine."

Neal leans back and grins. "Oh very funny."

"You know, sarcasm doesn't suit you, Neal."

He can see the smile she's trying to hide.

"I won't fall for that. You're just sarcastically telling me to use more sarcasm."

It's when she grows quiet Neal realizes that the serious part of their conversation isn't over yet.

"You know Peter admired you right?"

"Not as much as he admired you," Neal deflects Elle's words without a single thought.

"I'm serious, Neal. More than you think. Even before you became partners."

The young man's eyes widen a little.

"I admired his persistence."

"I bet it also annoyed you."

Neal feels the urge to laugh when he hears her say that and for once he doesn't hide it. Today's remarkable. It's the first moment after Peter's death he finds both himself and Elle laughing, _really _laughing. It's not the careful and polite kind of smile, not anymore.

"So he admired me?"

"He also said you're too talented for your own good."

Tbc

Let me know what you think.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: An update, finally. I hope you like this chapter.

Mistakes are mine, White Collar is not. I don't earn any money here. Of course if you want to send me money for some other reason, feel free to do so. I know, my sense of humor sucks. Anyway, enjoy. :)

* * *

Neal knows he's not supposed to put weight on his leg, but when he feels the pressure of the gun's muzzle against his head and hears the gruff voice telling him to drop the crutches, he decides to oblige like a good boy. This is not the lack of danger the FBI had promised him. Of course he's not a fool, he could've known,_ should've_ known. For some reason all he can think of is that there's no Peter to save his ass this time around.

"There is no money is there?"

All Neal knows is that he just needs to stall. He needs to make himself believe that agent Bremen is going to respond as fast as he can.

"I have the money, but I'm not giving it unless I see the painting. Putting a gun to my head is not going to make me move any faster."

"I don't believe you," Benton says. The art thief is paranoid to say the least.

_Crap_. That's what goes through Neal's mind for what seems like an eternity. It's as if his brain refuses to think.

"It's not my fault that you've lost your _faith in humanity_." Neal's sure that he could've thought of a more subtle way to use the words that are supposed to get him out of this situation. Then again, he can't exactly blame himself for saying the first thing that pops up in his head and it's not as if the words themselves are very subtle.

Benton doesn't push him forward, doesn't press him for more information, doesn't expect him to lead him to the money and, like the man said, he doesn't believe him at all.

Not much scares Neal Caffrey. A lot of people who know the ex-con believe that lie. Neal's convinced that he's good at pretending life doesn't frighten him. It's what he does, he pretends. Even now he doesn't beg for his life. He doesn't even know if his life is that important to him. He keeps losing everything and everyone close to him and maybe he's the reason why.

"Just shoot me," he says without thinking. Neal doesn't know what he's saying, like he has no control over the words that exit his mouth. He's sure that the FBI agents listening in on their conversation don't agree with his choice of words, but frankly, he doesn't care that much.

The pressure on his head increases and Neal knows he's about to die. He squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the bullet to make an end to the silence. Then he remembers. He can't die like this. It doesn't matter how much he detests himself, Elizabeth needs him now.

The pressure on his head and the silence disappear all of a sudden and he finds himself opening his eyes again. Neal sees agent Bremen lower his weapon and start running. He knows it's over, but he's frozen.

"Neal?"

It takes quite some time for Neal to move again. The first thing he manages to do is turn his head and look at the dead body of Benton on the ground behind him. He finds himself collapsing the next moment.

Agent Bremen catches him and helps him sit down on the floor.

"Are you hurt?"

Neal blinks in reply, then shakes his head. He can see Diana and Jones a little further, throwing him worried looks.

"I want to go home."

The words Neal decides to use don't explain much, but Bremen doesn't need more information, the older man just nods his head. He also knows that home means Elizabeth Burke's place.

* * *

Neal hates the extra attention he's getting from Bremen, Diana and Jones. Appreciating the sentiment behind their kind words is one thing, knowing how to handle the eggshells under their feet is another.

"We're here."

_Here it comes_. Neal braces himself.

"Need any help?"

His hands are shaking again, they tend to do that a lot lately, but at least he's good at hiding it.

"I'm okay."

Bremen frowns, picking up on Neal's moody expression.

"Neal," the older man starts, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"No it's okay." Neal doesn't want to do this, not right now, not ever.

"No it's not. I owe you an apology. _I'm sorry_."

Bremen means every word, Neal can see that in the man's eyes. The problem is that he doesn't know why he's apologizing. He has an idea, but even that idea doesn't warrant an apology.

"You shouldn't have gone undercover. I should've done more."

Neal's right. Bremen feels guilty for some reason. The young man wonders if that's a strength or a weakness. Probably both, he figures.

"I'm pretty sure someone else was pulling the strings here," Neal simply replies while opening the passenger's door with his right hand.

"I'm planning on talking to Hughes."

"Look, I really appreciate what you're saying, but I don't want to waste any more time thinking about what could've happened or even about what will happen in the future. I just don't care right now. I just want to go to bed and sleep."

Bremen gives him a short nod in reply.

"Fair enough. Don't come to work tomorrow."

"You don't have to cut me slack."

"I know," the agent replies, carrying a small smile on his face. "Now get out of the car and close that door, I'm getting cold."

Neal knows the older man is watching his every move, making sure he makes it inside alive, making sure one his crutches doesn't get stuck behind some stone designed to make him fall flat on his face. For once he doesn't care, even if it's still hard to let the agent into his life. He likes keeping Douglas Bremen at a distance for a good reason, but maybe that reason is a wrong one too.

Satchmo greets him the moment he enters the house.

"Hey Satch."

He follows the dog to the couch and sits down. Sleeping on the couch seems like a good plan, he doesn't want to risk going upstairs and waking up Elizabeth. Besides, he doesn't exactly feel like he can make it upstairs right now anyway. The dog senses his obvious distress and drops its head on the ex-con's left thigh.

"I love you too," Neal says, petting Satchmo's head before scratching behind the dog's left ear. "You like that don't you?"

"Don't answer that. I know you do."

Neal sighs.

"You're one of the few that get it, aren't you?"

Satchmo licks his hand in response.

"I know, Satch, I know."

He leans back in an attempt to get comfortable and closes his eyes. At least he can try to forget about reality for a while.

It's Satchmo's barking that wakes him up again not much later.

"What's wrong?" he asks, sitting up.

That's when he hears Elle's voice.

"Neal!" He doesn't miss the panic.

Grabbing the wireless phone from the table, Neal gets up and limps after Satchmo. He starts dialing as soon as he sees Elizabeth sitting at the top of the stairs.

The necessary information comes out of his mouth on automatic pilot and he breathes an audible sigh of relief when the operator tells him she will send an ambulance.

"Elle?"

"I know… breathe."

Neal slowly makes his way up the stairs and grabs Elizabeth's hand.

"Just squeeze my hand."

"I … don't think… I'm ready."

"You're as ready as you'll ever be."

She throws Neal an uncertain glance, then nods her head.

"Okay."

tbc

* * *

As always, let me know what you think.


	6. Chapter 6

New chappy, this one is more than a little shorter (and a little darker) than last one. This fic won't be much longer, maybe two chapters? As always, let me know what you think.

* * *

He's hungry but he can't explain why his belly insists on letting him know. Worry and hunger don't tend to go together on most occasions. Maybe he's channeling Satchmo. Elle's dog is hungry all the time, if it's not for food it's for more attention. Neal regrets that the poor dog isn't getting a lot of attention these days.

He catches himself tapping the arm rest with his right hand. He hates waiting rooms. The art on the walls isn't there to admire, it's there to ignore, or to look at with nothing on your mind. _Useless and a complete waste of space_. Neal can't blame anyone for trying but no one really thinks these things through. The images on the wall could just as well represent death itself. A tree surrounded by a rainy sky reminds him of everything that tends to go downhill in his life. _Death_. First Kate, then Mozzie, then Peter.

Alex refuses to talk to him like it's a horrible curse and maybe it is, maybe Elizabeth shouldn't come anywhere near him either. He's trouble. The truth is that he can't blame her.

Waiting rooms are never reassuring, not even the maternity ones. Everyone considers the possibility that something is wrong, that a loved one is in real danger, even if there's no reason to let your mind wander there. It happens all the time. He wants to stop thinking.

People lie, and he's getting really good at it too._ I'm fine, not on the verge of a mental breakdown, not at all. I'm not looking for an excuse to jump off a cliff. I'm fine. I'm happy, just peachy._

Neal's scared to look up when he hears the name of the person who keeps him from running from everything and everyone. _Elizabeth_.

He doesn't want to die. Neal feels like he's already gone. All that's left is this empty shell, one that moves on automatic pilot, because that's easy and easy is something he can cling to. He tries to cling to hope too. It's a nagging voice in the back of his head that tells him that shell doesn't have to stay empty.

He gets up from the chair he's been sitting in for a lot longer than an hour. It doesn't matter how long exactly, what matters is that the wait is over. He quietly follows the doctor and allows the older man to lead him to a room.

Neal remembers why there's hope the moment he enters Elizabeth's room.

"I'm sorry, Neal. I told them it was okay-"

"I'm not family I understand why they couldn't let me in."

"That's where you're wrong you know."

Neal returns the smile she gives him before making his way to the small glass crib right next to Elle's bed. He wouldn't admit it, but he has a soft spot for babies. A big part of him wants to reach out and cradle the little girl, but of course that's not the kind of thing an ex-counterfeiter does. Still, he can't resist offering his finger to her.

"She likes you already." Elizabeth says.

"She's strong too," Neal adds. _Just as strong as her mother._ He knows the grip on his finger is an automatic response, but he can't help feeling warm inside.

tbc


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Final chapter. I hope you'll like it. I have plenty of story ideas in my head and some time to start writing too. Thank you for reading and leaving reviews.

Disclaimer: I don't own White Collar, I do own typos and other horrible mistakes.

* * *

When agent Bremen promises something, even if it's not in words but just in his head alone, he keeps that promise. He talks to Hughes about Neal's position as a CI for the bureau. Much to his surprise he doesn't even have to convince Hughes, the older man is way ahead of him. Douglas Bremen's surprised reaction doesn't even come close to the look of pure shock on Neal's face when he gets the good news.

"How?" is the mere whisper that escapes Neal's mouth.

"Doesn't matter. What matters is that you can spend your last months as a CI without the constant danger."

"How does this work? I just give you advice? No more undercover work at all?"

Neal fires these questions without thinking because he's curious, but also because he needs the agent's words to be true.

"Basically, yes."

"What's the catch?"

It's probably not a fair question, but he can't help himself. If there's something he's learned in the past it's that being suspicious can be a safe thing to be.

Bremen shakes his head. "No catch."

Neal stares at the older man in reply. He wants to thank him but the words won't leave his mouth yet.

"Now get off my desk. Use a chair."

The ex-con didn't even realize he was sitting on the man's desk in the first place. At least Douglas Bremen doesn't treat him like some vulnerable person. Neal grabs his crutches and gets up but doesn't go anywhere near a chair.

"Thank you," he says.

He's about to go back to his own desk when the agent stops him.

"You're getting rid of that thing tomorrow right?"

Neal throws a quick subconscious glance at the cast on his leg. "Yeah, finally."

"When do you start physical therapy?"

"Next week. Can I go?"

He doesn't mean to sound disrespectful, especially after all Bremen's done for him, but after three surgeries he doesn't feel like talking about it at all or remembering how it happened. It's enough that PT will remind him for weeks to come.

"I'm sorry," he adds before the older man can reply.

"No, I understand. You can go. Just know that you can talk to me if you need it."

"I know," Neal says before nodding his head and leaving the room.

* * *

The smell of Italian food welcomes him the moment he enters the house and he can't help smiling because it makes his life seem normal. Before he does anything else, he makes his way to the small crib near the couch. Neal just stands there and watches little Anne sleep, unaware of the world around her. She's named after Peter's mother and looks a lot like Elizabeth.

When he hears Elle coming out of the kitchen he looks up.

"Need any help?" he whispers.

She shakes her head in reply.

Looking down again, Neal sees the baby's open eyes.

"Look who's awake." It's as if he has the little girl's attention now.

"You just keep an eye on her," Elle tells him before heading back to the kitchen. He likes children, he even considered having a baby with Kate. Neal blocks that thought the moment it enters his head. _Kate is gone forever_.

He watches Anne for what feels like an eternity and while she doesn't stare at Neal the whole time, she manages to warm his heart every time she does look at him. He ends up sitting down in a chair next to the crib. Placing his hand on the girl's belly is something he does without thinking, as if it's a natural thing to do and for some reason he can't stop himself from tickling her. She giggles in response, exactly what Neal was hoping for. Neal hears Elle coming out of the kitchen but he can't remove his hand from the girl's belly, the contact makes him feel safe.

Not much later he feels Elizabeth's hand on his shoulder. "Dinner's ready, Neal."

He nods his head in reply and gives her a smile.

* * *

**Epilogue: eight years later**

Anne's sick of being told her dad died in an accident. _What does that even mean?_ All she knows is that she wants to understand. Both her mom and Neal keep hiding the details. She turns nine soon and it's about time she learns what happened all those years ago.

She waits. She waits until Neal comes home, he may not be her real dad, but she wants him in on the conversation she wants to start. He raised her like a dad and loves her like a dad. It's the need to know that pains her every single day. _Why is everything such a big secret? _Her daddy didn't die in an accident. She knows that much.

Neal comes home from work a few minutes before seven pm and while she knows she has to go to bed in two hours and that the conversation she wants to have might take forever, she moves forward with her plan. As soon as they're sitting at the dinner table she drops the bomb.

"Dad didn't die in an accident."

She can see that Neal is happy he swallowed the food in his mouth before she made her statement. Anne also sees the uncomfortable look on both her mom and Neal's face.

"Please tell me," she adds. She doesn't want to sound like she's begging but somewhere deep down she knows she is.

"Honey," Elizabeth manages to say, but her daughter interrupts her and looks at Neal.

"You were there."

Neal knows she's referring to the fact that he still walks with a limp even after all those years. They told her he was near the accident when it happened. They told her a few years ago and they'd hoped she wouldn't bring it up, at least not right now. She's only eight years old.

Neal eyes Elle and when she nods her head he starts talking. He knows he doesn't have to explain every little detail and it's just better if he doesn't. One of the facts he vows to leave out, at least for now, is that her dad killed the perpetrator's brother during the arrest.

"Your dad arrested a bad man once and that man's brother…" Neal stopped for a moment, not sure how to continue. There's no right way of saying this, he figured.

"That man… placed a bomb in your dad's car."

The look Anne gives him breaks his heart. Elizabeth responds by grabbing her daughter's hand and pulling her into an embrace with her other hand.

"What… what about you?"

_Why are you not dead?_ Neal's been asking himself that question for years. He can't blame her for wondering.

"I was throwing away our coffee cups," he admits.

Anne gives him a nod, but doesn't say anything. All three of them don't say anything for a long time.

Elizabeth's the first to speak again. "You can stay home tomorrow." Making her go to school would be a horrible thing to do.

"I want to go to bed."

"Sure, honey." Elizabeth kisses her daughter and watches her leave the room.

"You okay?" she asks Neal.

The ex-con just looks at her for a moment before replying.

"I'm not sure. Are you?" he throws the question back.

"I'm not sure either."

"We knew this was going to happen."

"I guess this is a good thing," Elle says.

Neal nods. "We'll be okay."

Elizabeth grabs Neal's hand now.

"I know."

**The end**

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A/N: Let me know what you think. I love reviews.


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